Voices
by AnimeFan101
Summary: To hear, in the Wood. Oneshot, Vaan-centric.


Voices

By

AnimeFan101

Disclaimer: Squa-nix, not mine, yadda yadda.

Note: A little idea that niggled at me once, years back. Like it or loathe it, here you go.

0o0o0o Voices 0o0o0o0

Never let anyone know you can hear it, his brother had told him. Over and over again, always the warning to hide that he could hear.

Granted, their parents had said things over the years that seemed to dovetail with Reks's warnings, but Vaan had never understood. Then he turned fourteen, and in the midst of the "growing" that Old Dalan had always chuckled about, while discovering that Penelo was far more interesting than before, Vaan had started to understand.

Fortunately, the soldier was drunk, and passed out before he could do anything more than cry out in terror and faint. Vaan had made a point to be very careful after that, even to all but disappearing from the upper streets of Rabanastre. It wasn't worth it to be found.

Then the soldier was gone, and Vaan slowly began to re-emerge. And after that, Reks got worse. It was the hardest thing, tending for his brother when there was very nearly nothing there to hear.

After . . . well . . . Vaan was almost relieved not to have to hear such silence.

Traveling with Ashe was fun at first, seeing new places . . . but then the quest took him into Raithwall's tomb.

And face to face with something that _was not _and _never will be _hume.

The specter that Ashe alone was also able to see, and that Vaan barely managed to cover up having seen himself.

Traveling to the see the Garif later, Vaan realized the importance of what he'd experienced. The thing from the Tomb could only see when it was present, and _he shouldn't have been able to see it. _If it came back, even if none of the others could see, he would . . . but that seeing ran both ways. How to best hide himself?

Facing down Jote, demanding to see Mjrn, even with the prodding of Fran, Vaan could hear Jote. She would never aid them, and Balthier, Ashe, and Basch all read that indomitable will in her voice and stance. And without the Jote's aid, Fran was clear: the party would never find Mjrn. But Jote feared them . . . she feared them pressing on regardless. A fear that their search would destroy the Wood, much as had been threatened long ago when humes first came to Golmore. A fear buried deep beyond any perception.

At least, if one could not _hear._

Vaan stepped forward, and glared at Jote. "We'll let you worry about keeping your laws. Just do us a favor and stay out of our way; we'll find her ourselves."

The conviction in his voice had done it. Vaan could hear his friends' wills strengthen, bolstered by his lying tongue. And Jote's will shattered.

But there was danger in speaking so, as well. And Balthier, ever the pirate, was always watching out for the strange and unusual. So while the Arcadian exile praised Vaan's success in gaining direction from Jote, even as Larsa deciphered the path, his attention was focused on Vaan. Pieces were collating, knowledge threatened to grow out of suspicion.

Vaan could not let that happen. Distraction, he needed a distraction. Folding his arms, Vaan's thoughts raced. Just as Balthier turned to lead them for the mines, the answer all but exploded from his mind. It was perfect.

"Fran?" Vaan called.

Balthier and Fran halted, turned halfway in sync. Vaan spared a moment of envy for their effortless unsion, but Balthier was still observing in that "I'm not really paying attention way," trying to puzzle out Vaan. But Fran merely acknowledged his call. "Yes?"

Careful, be halting. "I was wondering, what Jote said, you know?" Vaan asked, face carefully open. "About how you said the same thing fifty years ago?"

Balthier turned fully, as Fran spoke back. "Your point?" she asked, her voice dismissive. Vaan could hear the brittleness below it, though.

_And now, the strike, _Vaan thought gleefully. Face confused, hand touching his chin, he fired the blow. "Uh, how old were you again?"

The silence that swept around the party was profound. Vaan was actually a little grateful; his friends were a little noisy at times. Then Fran turned and all but stomped off, while Balthier groaned.

The rest of the party filed past him, both Larsa and Penelo berating him for his childishness, while Basch merely sighed and Ashe suppressed the urge to laugh in his face.

But it was all worth it to _hear _Balthier.

_How that idiot boy manages anything is beyond me. Lady Luck must all but wrap her fickle arms around him day to day!_

Suspicion averted, Vaan was the uneducated street rat of Rabanastre again.

Breathing a careful sigh of relief, Vaan followed after the others. Mindwalkers, after all, had not been tolerated since the rise of the Dynast-King more than seven centuries ago, and were thought little more than legends now. Best to remain such.

_End_

Author's post-script: Just an odd little ficlet that niggled at me on my first play of FF12. Looking back, and having reviewed the scene in question, Jote does make a rather 180-turn on herself there. Coupled with Balthier's comment on the way out and the way he seems to be still looking at Vaan while Larsa's talking, I got this. Enjoy.

Post-post note: Dialogue lifted straight from the scene in question.


End file.
